Dear Friend, Once More
by MedliSage
Summary: It had been three months. Three months, and still no word. Still not a single sign. But Neku Sakuraba was not someone who gave up.


It had been three months. Three months, and still no word. Still not a single sign. But Neku Sakuraba was not someone who gave up.

Every week, his friends would meet with him at Hachiko. Everyday on Sunday. And every Sunday, Neku would arrive at least ten minutes early. His eyes would scan the crowds, the passing people, and sometimes he would still instinctively reach for his Player Pin to scan them – and every week there was not a trace of him.

The first few days Neku was hopeful, yet he had almost expected this result. After all, the one he waited for seemed as though the type to be fashionably late, the type to want to be unexpected, perhaps. But the days turned into weeks, and the weeks turned into months.  
_  
Trust your partner. And I do. ...Hey, did I mention? I've got friends now. We're meeting together for the first time in a week. ...See you there?_

… See you there, _dammit! _Dammit, Joshua. Didn't you know? You were practically a god, didn't you know how much he wanted to see you, how much you were missed –

But maybe that didn't matter. Maybe Neku cared, but Josh didn't. Maybe all this time, Neku had really been Josh's toy. His puppet. Nothing more than a proxy. Maybe the friendship was a lie. Just another part of the Game. Dammit. Dammit. It could all be true. Why would high and mighty Joshua need or want to bother with things like _friends? _

But then why go through all this just to bring them back?

Neku had to know. So after two months had gone by, he opened the door to WildKat Café.

"Phones!" Said the familiar, cheery voice from behind the counter. "What a surprise."

It was not a place Neku had visited since the Game – nor had he seen Mr. H. Neku had often imagined everyone gathering at Hachiko – everyone – and then they would all go to WildKat, and they would chat, and hang out, and be happy –

"Yeah," he replied simply, walking up to the counter.

There was catching up to be done. How are you, what's been going on, and such and such, but Neku hadn't come here for that. And that was obvious.

"What's on your mind, Neku?" Mr. H asked, leaning over the counter a bit.

"Where's Josh? Is he alright, or – does he not want to see us? Not want to see me? Is it because –"

The flood of questions stopped as Mr. H raised a hand. Neku tucked his hands into his pockets, and held a breath without realizing so.

For a moment Mr. H said nothing, one of his hands moving to idly rub behind his neck. Then, he broke away from Neku's gaze, as if contemplating something deep and conflicting – and let out a long sigh. "J is alright."

A pause, as Neku waited for more. When it didn't come, he let out his breath almost exasperatedly. "Okay? Well then where's he been?"

"Hey, he's the Composer. He has plenty of duties and obligations."

"But it's been two _months," _Neku persisted, emphasizing the length of time with a hand gesture. "In two months he hasn't found the time to – I don't know, stop by and let me – us – know that he's okay? Or anything?"

Again, Mr. H sighed. This time, however, it was not long and contemplative, but perhaps more sad. "I don't think I can't speak in his place for his feelings."

"But I need to know."

"Listen... Neku," Mr. H said, placing a hand on Neku's shoulder – warm, reassuring. His voice was uncharacteristically low, lacking in its usual carefree attitude. "He will come see you – when, and if, he is ready. But I can't, and I won't, speculate on how he might feel to you."

And so began Neku's weekly trips to WildKat.

Every week, after he spent time with his friends, he would go to WildKat. Every week, he would ask questions along the same line: how was Josh, had he said anything to Mr. H about coming to see Neku and everyone else. And every week, Mr. H would give him the same response – that he couldn't speak in Josh's place, and that he would come if and when he was ready. "But you _must_ know," Neku would say, "you must know how he feels." It was evident in that second week of the Game that Mr. H and Josh were close, and had known each other for years. And when Neku said that, Mr. H would simply sigh and close his eyes, a broken half-smile on his face, and shrug in defeat. He was never annoyed by Neku's persistence, and honestly was rather touched; but he would not speak in Joshua's place. Neither was Neku annoyed by Mr. H's silence, as he understood why.

But Neku Sakuraba was not someone who gave up.

Five weeks after he had begun making trips to WildKat, and three months since he had last seen Joshua, Neku approached Mr. H a bit differently.

"Hey, Mr. H," he said, handing the cup he had been drinking out of over the counter.

The other tossed him an intrigued look as he took the cup, placing it into the sink behind them.

"How did you and Josh meet? I know you guys have known each other for a long time. But how did it start?"

Mr. H let out a bit of a sigh, eyes closed in thought as he brought a hand to his chin. Eventually he began, a bit slowly, as if trying to amass a long while's worth of memories. "I met J when he was about seven – eight or nine years ago, now. How? Well, it was obvious to me, who had knowledge of the UG and the Game, that he could see it. The way his eyes moved to things that wouldn't be there to normal people, the way he flinched and shook at the Noise. So one day, I stopped him as he was walking by. I asked him, 'Hey, kid. You're seeing all of this, aren't you?' And he didn't say anything back to me – he just stared back up at me. So I invited him into the café, and after a bit of prodding I got him to open up. After a lot of reassuring that I wouldn't call him crazy, that I wouldn't say he was making it up. And I tried to explain to him that he was just special. That he could see things normal folks couldn't. That what he was seeing was just another part of reality – but not one most people could see. I don't know whether or not he believed me at first, but after that, he kept coming back here. Sometimes I would tell him a bit more about the UG. Sometimes we would just chat about normal things. Eventually he was opening up to me about his life. After all, I was the only one who talked to him like he was a normal person."

Neku was listening intently – trying to imagine it. A tiny Joshua, seeing the UG – what must that have been like to a child who knew nothing about it? Seeing all the Noise, seeing the Reapers hunt the Players down and seeing the people erased, sometimes brutally so – and not knowing if it could affect him. Trying to tell people what he was seeing and being shut out. How did he even grow up like that? There were some other questions, but among them, there was just one at the forefront of Neku's mind. "Okay... so... how did he become Composer in the first place? I mean, he must have gone to the UG first. Did you help him get there, or... or did he die?"

Again, Mr. H sighed. A long, contemplative one, as if judging whether or not this was his place to speak. Eventually though he replied, "J came to the UG of his own free will. He was just fifteen, and over the years he had pretty much learned most of the workings of it all from me. I had complained about the current Composer for quite some time, so that could have been part of it... but J decided that he wanted to take the position. To become a part of the UG himself. So he shot himself, participated in the Game, and won. And then he erased the last Composer and took the throne."

Neku wasn't exactly sure what he had been expecting. But he tried to process it, to imagine it; Joshua shooting himself. Thinking of it as a way to travel to the UG, it didn't seem that bad – but how must he have felt, to be pushed to that? To be pushed to kill himself, to force himself into what really what was almost another world. "So... Josh killed himself."

"Right. And the Higher Plane – those who watch over all this – weren't to happy with J as the Composer since he was so young. And now he's getting into all sorts of trouble, with the outcome of the last Game. There was a mountain's worth of rules broken in that one, and most of them by J. At the end, in particular." A pause, and Neku tossed him a bit of a questioning look, at which he continued, "The revival of so many players doesn't sit well. Especially those that were erased. And he knew he'd get hell for it, but he did it anyway."

For a while, Neku said nothing, taking in all that he had heard. He had known since he met him that there was so much more to Josh than what was on the surface, and he had been curious as to his past for a while – he reeled it over in his mind again. Joshua, growing up alone with no one to understand. Being cut off and cutting himself off from people. Evidently losing faith in them to the point where it seemed the only thing to be done was to destroy Shibuya.

Neku thought of himself a few months back; friendless, not understanding people, having been cut off himself and in turn cutting himself off. No one understanding how he felt.

He thought of a teenage Joshua, alone in a room with nothing but himself and a gun, at a point where he thought the only thing he could do was to put a bullet in his head. Fighting through the Game himself, taking over as Composer only to be just as alone in the UG as he was in the RG. He had said something like that, hadn't he –

_"What's waiting for you in the RG? You're as alone there as here. What's the difference?"_

"Why didn't I know this sooner – any of this?" Neku abruptly asked. If he had known more about him sooner, maybe –

"Maybe because I didn't _want_ you to know."

And then Neku whirls around, eyes wide and breath caught in his throat. Because suddenly, out of nowhere, after all this time, here he was, standing in the middle of the room.

"Joshua, listen –"

But Mr. H was cut off. "I've _been_listening – listening to you tell him all this."

Neku's mind and body were frozen – it seemed surreal. His gaze was firmly affixed on Joshua – his hands were curled into fists at his sides, but what was more, Joshua's eyes would not meet his or Mr. H's directly, and instead his gaze was uncharacteristically focused on some blank spot on the wall behind them.

Without thinking Neku took a few quick steps forward and seized Joshua by the wrist, perhaps as though that would stop him if he decided to suddenly vanish again – and Joshua's eyes finally found Neku's.

And then Neku caught himself about to lash out – what made Joshua think now it was okay for him to show up? If it had been this simple, why hadn't he done it sooner, instead of making Neku wait, making him wonder if he'd ever see him again –

And suddenly his mind flashed back to that day in the Room of Reckoning, to the things he had said –

_"I thought... I thought I finally found a friend I could relate to... You tricked me... You're a monster..."_

He was hurt. His words had been harsh. And now he regretted it. Had Joshua tricked him? Yes. Was it unforgivable? ...No. Was he a monster?

Neku's gaze briefly glanced down to Joshua's wrist that he had in a tight hold – Joshua was trembling. His whole body was. Why? Neku's eyes moved back to meet Joshua's – that violet stare that was often so probing, as if it saw right through you with such a holier-than-thou attitude – but this was different. His eyes were almost shimmering like water, as if fighting back –

And it was a moment in which Neku could see it, he could see Joshua and all he had been through, he could see the small child Mr. H had talked about, and he could see the lonely, empty person Neku understood so well because he had been that person. Scared and vulnerable and trying to desperately to hide it away, so far from a monster.

"Listen – you were scared, weren't you? Scared of what would happen if you saw me again? Listen, Josh, maybe I can't forgive you yet. But I know I can, and I will, and more than that, I – I missed you, alright? I've waited, at Hachiko, for you. I've been coming here to try and check on you. You must know that. I wouldn't do that out of anger, out of spite, or anything like that." He could feel Joshua shaking, moreso now, but Neku continued. "Just – stay here. Don't go and vanish. If you're scared, if you're hurt, well then – tell me. Let me know what you're thinking. Let me be your friend and help you."

Silence. Neku's eyes remained fixated on Joshua's – three months ago he would never have said any of this to anyone, never have put himself in a position like this – so vulnerable, so easily hurt. If Joshua did just up and vanish, it would hurt. It would hurt so much – but here Neku was, reaching out. Risking that. But really, there was no risk. He trusted Joshua.

There was no need for words. Instead Joshua's eyes shut tightly against the stinging behind them, and Neku stepped forward, his arms wrapping around the other. Joshua's body gave a small shudder, and then all of fear and the stress and anxiety of the months past just collapsed, and all of his weight was on Neku, head buried into his shoulder.

Neku's vision was blurring a bit, tears clouding it. "You're not alone," he murmured, feeling Joshua's hands curl into the fabric of his shirt. "We're not alone." Neku tightened his grip just as Joshua shuddered once more, fighting against the sob that wracked his oh so _human _and vulnerable self. "And we'll never be alone," Neku said. "That's what friends are for."


End file.
